


Because Science

by WanderingThisWay



Category: Captain America (Movies), Iron Man (Movies), Marvel, Marvel (Movies), Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Soulmates, Civil War (Marvel), Civil War Fix-It, M/M, Major character doesn't really die, Soulmates, Tony has a potty mouth, and comes back to get mauled, lovingly, of course
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-01-26
Updated: 2016-01-26
Packaged: 2018-05-16 09:09:30
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,974
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5822761
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/WanderingThisWay/pseuds/WanderingThisWay
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>
  <i>Okay so yes jealousy existed and some people may or may not experience it, but please, why on earth would he be jealous? Tony did not do jealous… much. Okay, so maybe a little, every now and again. And twice on Tuesdays. But seriously, if Steve was your…. thing that Steve was, anybody would be jealous under those circumstances, really.</i>
</p><p>Or, the one where Tony and Steve are soulmates but the Civil War happens anyway, because, reasons, Steve was really only "mostly dead" afterwards, Tony Stark tries Stephen Strange's patience, and you cannot change the laws of physics... except when maybe you can.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Because Science

He wasn't _jealous_.

Okay so yes jealousy existed and some people may or may not experience it, but please, why on earth would he be _jealous_? Tony did not do _jealous_ … much. Okay, so maybe a little, every now and again. And twice on Tuesdays. But seriously, if Steve was your…. thing that Steve was, anybody would be jealous under those circumstances, really. Even Mother Fucking Theresa. Probably. Tony dared anyone to take one hard look at Steve, spend an hour in the sarcastically wry, yet honest and sincere (an interesting dichotomy if Tony did say so himself, and he did. So he was proud of his… person that was Steve, so sue him), man’s company, and say otherwise.

See, he had known Steve first. And yes, that was all the logic of a five-year-old fighting over the teeter totter on the kindergarten playground, but true nonetheless.

He and Steve had saved New York together, had battled Hydra, and villainous evil robots. As you do. And what said male bonding more than stopping the sixth great mass extinction?! Steve had been there, skin glistening with sweat, muscles extra bulgy as he swiveled his hips to throw the shield this way and that.. but Tony digressed. Seriously though, what on earth did it take to rate a Christmas card list at the very least?! An email or two that said ‘hi Tony, wish you were here. Sorry about the whole ‘ _Avengers keep ending up in hot water that you have to play peacekeeper with the government about_ ’ thing, so how you’ve been?’

Yes, Tony had done his damndest to push Steve away, but that didn’t mean Steve had to find closeness and companionship with Wilson while Tony remained forever on the peripheral, relegated to the role of financier, did it? Since when did pushing someone away for their own good mean the person had to stay all the way away, for their own good? Or something.

He and Steve were…

Something that Tony had never allowed voiced out loud, indeed only gave credence to in the dead of the night when he lay sleepless and pondered what it would be like to give in, to stop punishing himself long enough to allow himself to think about what it would be like to hold Steve, to tease him, to make love to him. To contemplate what it would be like to indulge in the fantasy that maybe he actually wouldn’t be the ruin of Steve like he was the ruin of every other light that had entered his life. His particular Tony Stark brand of the Midas touch, everything he touched turned to gruesome, _stark_ death; pun intended.

No, Steve was too important, too beautiful, to ruin. The world needed him more than Tony needed him, even if that fact _sucked_.

So he kept well enough away, fed an awkwardness, distance, between them like one would feed a pet fish, firmly keeping his longing to the "afar" kind (which also doubled as masochism. Yay - two for one). All the while deliberating whether or not Steve _knew_. If he’d sensed it that first meeting, as Tony had. Had lashed out in fear with angry words, hidden under the convenient influence of an evil scepter (as excuses for defensive behavior went, that was a brilliant one; one for the books, really), the way Tony had done.

Thus it made total sense that Steve, perhaps in sensing Tony’s position on the matter, perhaps out of pride, perhaps under the weight of his own baggage, had, in fact, remained distant, himself; even when they were in a room together. Especially when they were in a room together.

But honestly, that didn’t give Steve the right to go and become bosom buddies with everyone _but_ him. As if Wilson or Maximoff were his…

Well they weren’t, because that precious and extraordinary bit of exceedingly atypical fortune had been gifted to Tony.

Everyone knew the story. One soul, once whole and complete, divided into two parts by bitter, angry gods, forced to live apart until that point when, if they're lucky (and they weren’t superheroes who ruin everything they touch and were out to make amends. Hair shirt? Yes, please) they find each other. Empathic links were formed (though that one could be easily squashed into submission if one put their mind to it), an intuitive knowledge of one another, a seamless partnership, if allowed, strengths and weaknesses perfectly complimented. And there was the electrical undercurrent, whenever in the presence of one another.

...On second thought, there was no way Steve didn’t know; hadn’t known as long as Tony, himself, had. He’d simply picked up on Tony’s need to keep him away, and had kept away.

But was a little pinning on Steve’s part too much to ask for in the grand scheme of things, really? Even considering all of that?

"That’s cold, man," Tony heard Wilson proclaim, in the conference room the all sat once the Avengers had been called to task, once again, for civilian deaths via building collapse. Which might have been excusable if it only happened one time (the key word being ONE), but unfortunately the list of deaths the Avengers seemed to leave in their wake seemed to be accumulating, and yes, Tony was aware that some of those deaths were on him, which was one of the reasons he was trying to make this right, damnit. Yet...

Tony had poor impulse control as it was, he recognized this about himself. Genius afterall, self-awareness was a thing. Even so he could scarcely stop himself before...

"Warmer than jail," Tony bit out, eyes firmly on Steve as he said it.

Steve’s face remained impassive. Still, though, if one looked closely enough, which Tony had always done (even as he pushed Steve away), they could read the hurt on display in those far too bright blue eyes.

It made his heart do that thing where it felt like someone had punched it straight on, bypassing his ribs.

Damn. Jealousy was so stupid. And it made one do stupid things. Any wind Tony had had in his sails was now officially out.

But the thing was… there was so much to atone for, so _much_. He’d seen what was out in space, courtesy of a missile happy government; he knew what was coming, had seen it through a hole in the sky. Granted, in retrospect, seeing Steve dying in an artificially induced vision had triggered a knee jerk reaction to build a defense beyond what the Avengers were capable of that had backfired in a big way - perhaps he should have thought Ultron through a little better - but that didn’t make the appending threat less, well, threatening. The Avengers needed to stay together to fight that threat, and to stay together they needed to work with the world, not consistently piss it off via collateral damage.

Yes, government restrictions were not ideal. Yes, they were an obstacle to operations, particularly as their knee-jerk reaction was to send nukes to New York instead of letting the Avengers handle things. But details like the hows and whys of superhero monitoring could be hashed out later, once cooler heads prevailed. Amendments could be made once the Avengers, and Tony, as their financier, had proved themselves willing to cooperate.

That said… It was not a comfort, hurting Steve as he, himself, hurt. It didn’t alleviate any kind of sting out of the situation. Hurt animal reflexes really were a useless thing, even as they were difficult as hell to repress. He was too used to, now, pushing Steve away. Too used to adding one nail after another into the coffin that was them. He’ll make amends to Steve about the jail comment later. He needed Steve’s cooperation on this. He needed it to _protect_ Steve. Which, whether Steve was his to claim, or not, Tony would do until his dying breath.

Even if he had to oppose Steve to do it.

* * *

 

Tony’s heart had been literally poisoned before. He knew what that felt like. Knew what it was like to kiss death with bad blood, no metaphor anywhere in that.

This was worse.

Friend, Steve had said. He’s my friend.

As if Tony were somehow unaware that Steve Rogers and Bucky Barnes were the world’s most infamous BFFs. As if the history books didn’t wax poetic on said friendship. Hell, Hallmark had probably made millions with the greeting card slogan _‘you’re the Rogers to my Barnes’_ or something equally sappy. Tony didn’t begrudge Steve that. He’d even send Barnes a thank you note for taking care of Steve when he was a wee thing, with more guts than brawn, and then again during World War 2 after aforementioned brawniness took place but when Nazis were actively aiming for the stars and stripes and the person within them.

He owed Barnes for ensuring that Steve stayed alive long enough to be the Capsicle the world knew and loved (but Tony loved most).

That didn’t change the fact that due process was, well, due.

Brainwashed or not, Barnes had to go through the system, had to present his case within the court of law. Running would not accomplish _anything_. If anything it made his case _worse_.

So it wasn’t the friendship that pissed Tony the hell off. No. He could handle The Most Epic Friendship of All Time™. And he got it, it was sweet and all that, in that frozen, then defrosted, wow my bff from the Great Depression was still alive, kind of way. Hallmark worthy. He may or may not have owned a Bucky Bear as a kid to go with his Captain America figurines, and may or may not have enacted this exact scenario multiple times, complete with cool voiceovers.

So, okay, he was prone to get jealous of pretty much anyone Steve loved, as they had a piece of Steve Tony denied for himself. Yeah, okay, that was apparently a thing. He could man-up and admit it. But he could overlook that when it came to historic friendships that ended all friendships - he could stomach Barnes in Steve’s life because history. No, what pissed Tony the hell off was that Steve was not only putting everything on the line for that friend with _no logical conclusion to his actions in sight_ , but he was destroying himself to do it.

Now _Steve_ was wanted. Now _Steve_ had defied the law. Now every single government agency, worldwide, was gunning for _Steve_ as well as Barnes. And that was just Not. Cool. With capitalization and dramatic pause to signify just how uncool that not cool thing was.

Tony would have done anything, _anything_ , to have prevented this from happening, but Steve, because he was Steve, i.e. so stubborn even stubborn pointed to a picture of Steve and said _‘this guy defines me’_ did it all anyway, without so much as a care in the world that there were people from _this_ century who loved him and would be happy to see Steve, oh Tony didn’t know... NOT wanted by the FBI, for starters.

Jesus Christ it was hard enough to protect the guy when he wasn’t trying his damnedest to do himself in.

So when Tony replied "So was I" to Steve’s "...but he’s my friend" he might have been going for the jugular, a bit. In his defense the artful bestowing of a guilt trip was pretty much the only way to get through Steve’s rather thick skull.

Tony just hoped Steve interpreted that "So was I" to mean, _‘I’m your soulmate, dammit, and I haven’t spent the past few years denying us the solace and ecstasy of a soul bond for your own good, only to have you self-destruct on your own!’_ as the English language intended.

Until then, fine, let Barnes and Steve think they were beating him. Let them ding his brand new armor, built to withstand, a bit. As long as the arch reactor remained functioning, he’d be fine, if not a little bruised. He wouldn’t even fight back, didn’t need to. It wasn’t worth the potential to hurt Steve.

It wasn’t until Barnes started going for the arch reactor that Tony thought _‘oh shit’_. Surely Steve wouldn’t begrudge him punching Barnes in the face. Just this once. He was owed this much. Not for himself, and not on behalf of his parents - he was fully capable of assigning culpability for that exactly where it belonged, thank you very much, may maggots enter Pierce’s grave and eat what was left of his dead, decaying flesh - but for the threat Barnes mere presence had presented to _Steve_ just by existing.

* * *

 

They said no pain on earth could match the pain a surviving partner faced when their soulmate died. If by immense and immeasurable pain they meant utter despair, total blackness of thought, a sudden impassiveness to everyone and everything and complete lack of hope (as if they too were dead and stuck in some kind of Walking Dead zombie mode, only without the craving for a lunch of human flesh), then yes, Tony would say that description was pretty damn accurate.

Food no longer had taste. Music no longer pumped through his soul. And he could give fuck all for tinkering with machines, hot showers, or the bite of whiskey on his tongue, all things that used to elicit an endorphin or two.

Really he just wanted to be where Steve was, even in death. Anything else held zero appeal.

"The service was beautiful, I cried some manly tears. We didn't agree there politically in the end, and yeah it’ll be awhile before I can be alone in a room with Barnes after that stunt he pulled yanking the reactor out of my suit, but I'll always look up to Rogers, you know? Childhood hero, deserving of the mantel and all that. He truly was one of a kind," he heard Rhodey say, distantly, because all things were distant these days, even the words of those coming to stand mere inches from him, as Rhodey was doing now.

"Yeah," Tony replied, because he _distantly_ remembered that replies were expected. Which was cumbersome, but whatever. Must his best friend talk to him? Must anybody? Why must mouths exist and sound come out of them? Steve had had a nice mouth. A real nice mouth. Full, beautiful lips. Perfect teeth. Such a goddamn waste... He thought that distantly, too.

He wondered if it should pain him to hear Steve mentioned, but then thought maybe numbness was better. Pain was painful. Tony had most likely reached his threshold for it, finally, which was why he didn't feel anymore.

Which worked because feelings were certainly cumbersome, too.

"You want to take a step back from that ledge, Tony? I know you’re not on the very edge, but you're still a little too close for my comfort," Rhodey asked him then. He sounded worried… Tony should probably feel bad about worrying Rhodey. Probably.

Was he close? He hadn't really thought of it. He wasn't planning to jump or anything. He had just wanted to look down. Because Steve was down. Being down was a thing. So down was where Tony would look. And really staring at a fixed point was the best way to spend time.

"I really don't," Tony announced. Because he didn't.

"Steve wouldn't approve of you taking a downward, spiral, you know that, right? He wouldn't like this," Rhodey said then, and if Tony had the energy, he might have laughed, ironically of course.

And yeah, Tony thought, Steve probably wouldn't approve of zombie!Tony, but Steve wasn't here so fuck that.

 _‘Don't do this to yourself, Tony,’_ he heard a Steve-like voice say in his head. Because apparently he had reached that stage of grief where he heard voices of his recently deceased now.

Soooooo, that was healthy. You know, were Tony concerned with mental health. Which, he really wasn't.

 _‘Tony don't!’_ Imaginary head-Steve shouted, _‘come find me! Please?! Come find me! I can snap you out of this, I can, but you need to come get me first.’_

And that was the exact moment Tony started to feel something again, like a whisper against his flesh. Like goosebumps. Like a tug on a long dead link that hadn’t quite been beaten into submission. Like there was something _there,_ in his mind, around him.

He took a huge step away from the ledge.

"Steve?" he asked, with wide eyes. There was feeling again. There it was. And it was awe. "You’re alive?!"

If Rhodey had been drinking right then his spit take would have verged on epic. The thought made Tony smile for the first time in days, months, _years_. But laughing at his best friend would have to come later, first things first...

There was talk of a Stephen Strange. A man of magic. Tony had read about him in SHIELD’s leaked data. At the time Tony had scoffed because come on, magic?! But there was Thor and his Mjolnir and aliens of all shapes and sizes, and soulmates with their links that reached past the grave... perhaps he’d judged, and condemned, magic too quickly.

He would figure this out.

* * *

 

If Tony thought too long about the Infinity Stones it gave him a headache.

Because, science.

There were laws, okay? Everything had an explanation that could be unlocked via specific use of the scientific method. So the fact that six stones existed, each with a different power over life, liberty, the pursuit of happiness, the cosmos at large and the laws of physics, was a little mind-boggling.

So crystal quartz could store data, this was fact. Microchips used this technology. Tony was fully onboard with that. He could make it that far. Crystal could be powerful in that regard. So the real question was what the hell kind of _data_ was saved in those damn freaking stones?!

But, whatever. One of them was going to return Steve to him which made the damn things his favorite things in the history of ever (that one had contributed to all that was Ultron notwithstanding).

He’d risk anything, _anything_ , to bring Steve back. Even if that meant playing with things he’d learned the hard way were better to keep away from.

Besides, it wasn't Tony messing with it. Strange was. Because Strange had a Time Stone™, and Steve was stuck in time, as Steve was want to do - typical of him really - though at least this time it wasn't ice that trapped him but some kind of time-traveling magic bullets courtesy of Zemo.

Jesus, just what was Tony’s _life_?!

"And this won't hurt him, right?" Tony asked, for perhaps the billionth time, but who was counting?

"No!" Strange responded through clenched teeth, eyes narrowed in annoyance at the break in his concentration.

Okay, so apparently Strange was counting. What a prickly dude.

"And he won't come back homicidal and wanting to extinct mankind?"

"Did he want to extinct mankind before?" Strange ground out, shooting Tony that look people got when their blood pressure was on the rise.

And to think he’d once thought Strange would be all zen. Maybe Tony had caught him on an off day.

"Of course not!" Tony replied, how dare this asshole besmirch Steve’s name! How dare he?! If Tony wasn't so dependent on the guy to bring Steve back, he’d totally kick his ass, scientifically of course. "This Captain America we’re talking about! Show some respect! Steve is goodness and light personified. If there was a bright spot in the center of the universe, Steve would be it."

"You owe the Captain, Stephen," Tony heard Strange mumble to himself under his breath. "You were on Hydra’s kill list and Rogers prevented that. Do not let his worst half prevent you from evening the score through sheer annoyance. Balance, life is about balance, even if you have to listen to overly saccharine declarations to achieve it. I feel for Rogers, I really do."

...which Tony took to mean he could pretty much say anything he wanted and still get Steve. Good. He was going to do that anyway.

"Okay so we’re _sure_ this won't hurt him?"

* * *

 

Tony did not wait for Steve to get his bearings. Didn’t think he could even if he tried.

Steve was _there_ , standing in front of Tony, alive, breathing and everything. Tony could cry. Probably was.

Steve had almost been taken from him. Had come so, so close to disappearing from this plain of existence forever. It made Tony nauseous just to think about it.

So yeah, Tony didn't care that all of their friends were there to watch. Didn't care that due to their little internal war, there was still some lingering tension between his group and Steve’s. Gave fuck all about anything but Steve being there and alive.

Considering the circumstances there was only one logical course to take, really. He was going to kiss Steve, hard, and simply ignore everything else, like a boss.

And so he marched up to Steve, grabbed hold of his… strong, hard, musclely biceps, hmmm, sooooo those were _nice_ … and laid one on him.

Steve rocked back a little with the sudden weight of a genius, billionaire, philanthropist in his arms, but he didn't push Tony away, so Tony took that as an invitation to continue with his imminent plans of sucking Steve’s face.

Steve’s lips were soft, softer than Tony thought they’d be. It was hard to imagine any part of Steve as soft, but here they were compliant and smooth and molded deliciously to his. Tony felt his eyes fall shut, took a deep breath, taking in Steve’s scent, memorizing it, basking in it. He brought his hand around to cup the back of Steve’s head, burying his fingers in Steve’s hair, which was also soft, using his hold to pull Steve ever closer. Make him dip to Tony’s height; hold him in place like that forever.

He needed Steve as close as possible, and then, after that, closer still. In fact, pulling Steve all the way inside him would be cool, if it wasn't for, you know, physics.

God the way Steve moaned into his mouth, the way he tasted. The way the silky wetness of his tongue tangled with Tony’s. The heat Steve radiated like the fucking sun.

Tony would never tire of this, not ever.

The link between them flared to life, and Tony felt Steve, _felt_ him. Knew, in his head, that Steve was just as moved as he was, had been just as scared.

Their tongues continued to dance, mouths wide open and pressed together at every possible point. He wanted to swallow Steve, swallow him whole. His other hand lay flat against Steve’s back, pressed firmly against it, keeping him there, molded.

His heart was beating so fast he might die of it, but oh, what a death.

Unfortunately, after awhile, the need to breath became a very real concern, damn oxygen for being so necessary.

Steve pulled back, no more than an inch, as much as Tony would allow at any rate, blue eyes glassed over and dazed.

"Does this mean you don't hate me anymore?" He asked, breathlessly.

And Tony wasn't sure if Steve was referring to the Civil War or the fact that he’d so adamantly pushed Steve away before that, but the answer was the same regardless.

"Never hated you, just wanted to protect you," he breathed back. "Didn't exactly work out for me. Might need to try a different approach this time. Which means I'm going to keep you close. Very, very close. Best get used to it, Rogers."

Steve smiled. Eyes shining. Cheeks red. Expression bashful.

"Sounds good," he agreed.

He looked so cute. So Tony kissed him again. Because, gravity.

　

　

**Author's Note:**

> First attempt at this, hopefully I didn't mangle them too badly? *dusts off Tony and Steve, props them up*.
> 
> Did my own editing, so please forgive any errors.
> 
> Thank you for reading. :)


End file.
